Free When Secrets Die by Lynn S. Hightower

when she’d come, the first time, flesh throbbing gently against him, he’d groaned and kissed her, and she liked the wine and tobacco taste on his tongue.
    She took his finger and placed it gently in her mouth, running her tongue up and down the side, and he thrust himself at her but she just smiled and dipped her tongue in and around the crevices on either side.
    You’re killing me .
    Enjoy it .
    She pulled the dress down beneath her breasts and guided his mouth to her nipple.
    Gently , she told him. Then hard .
    I remember how .
    And while he sucked at her breasts she balanced herself right over the tip of his erection. He tried to pull her down, tried to thrust himself inside, but he was strapped pretty tightly by the seat belt and stopped when she told him to behave.
    Just a little ways down. Halfway. He breathed hard and his head went back and he groaned and closed his eyes very tight.
    You could think of baseball .
    She pulled off, then was back up again, sliding slowly down until he was deep deep inside her.
    Be still , she’d told him. Be still .
    She’d bitten him gently on the side of the neck, then ran her tongue in and out of his ear.
    And then she pulled herself off him, slowly of course, and somewhat regretfully, and moved off his lap, and over to the other seat, where she could take him into her mouth without interference from the steering wheel.
    She knew exactly how to get him where he wanted to be, but first she let him enjoy the feel of her mouth all around him, moving slowly up and down, her tongue flicking from one side to the other. She did not want to hurry him. She wanted him to enjoy.
    And pretty soon she had a rhythm going, a rhythm that was literally making him curl his toes inside the expensive leather shoes, because he’d honored her tonight by dressing in his very best.
    And once the rhythm was going just so, she did that little thing that he loved, where she tugged ever so lightly at the base of his erection with her bottom lip, creating just the right whisper of friction, while her mouth slid up and then down. It had the desired effect, as she knew it would.
    Blaine touched her shoulder and made her jump; she hadn’t heard her daughter get up, hadn’t heard her come into the living room.
    â€œWhat’s wrong, Mama, did somebody die?”
    Emma looked at her daughter’s tense little face and sighed. She’d have to tell her.
    â€œIt’s not good news, honey.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œOkay, first, nobody died.”
    Blaine nodded but did not look relieved, and she sat down on the couch next to her mother.
    Emma did not go into the details. She watched her daughter’s face for shock, disapproval, and disgust. But Blaine had tossed her head and snorted.
    â€œHow dare they, Mama? Those assholes! Sex isn’t sinful, it’s an expression of love between two adults who have a deep and lasting relationship.”
    Emma hiccuped, then grinned at her daughter.
    â€œThat’s what you told me, right?”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œThey have no right to do this.” Blaine patted the edge of the couch. “Come on, Wally. Come up. See, Mom, she’s upset because you’re crying.”
    The dog scrambled up onto the couch beside Emma, looked soulfully at both of them, and belched loudly. Emma and Blaine both laughed right in the middle of their drama.
    â€œHang on, Mom.”
    Blaine returned quickly, lugging a blanket, a box of tissues, and her secret stash of chocolate.
    Emma thought she should stop her daughter when Blaine picked up the phone and called Great-Aunt Jodina—but she knew she needed help. And Blaine hung up and told her with a smile that Aunt Jodina would come as soon as it was light enough to see, and that no, they hadn’t woken her up, she had heard a noise and was sitting in her living room loading her shotgun when the phone rang.
    And then Blaine refilled Emma’s wineglass and poured herself